


Death Was Just The Beginning

by Mistymay6886



Series: Monsters & Myths (Verse 3) [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Original, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Angst and Drama, BAMF Clary Fray, BAMF Isabelle Lightwood, Escape, F/F, Family Drama, Family Feels, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Fluff, M/M, Rescue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24512476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistymay6886/pseuds/Mistymay6886
Summary: What a difference a day makes…Alec has been a loyal solider nearly his entire life. He was raised with it- for it…never for a moment questioned it. Any of it. Never questioned they were on the right side of this…after all they are Angelus- decedents of Angels…they are facing literal monsters: demons, goblins, shifters and other terrifying, nightmare creatures…How can they NOT be in the right?But when an unexpected face reappears it throws everything he thought he knew out the window.They’ve thought Isabelle was dead for over FIVE years…It’s been a long, very difficult time for Alec, Jace and Max. But apparently as difficult as it was for them that was nothing compared to the hell Izzy had to endure. The hell she endured at the hands of her own people…The people she (along with Alec, Jace and every other Angelus youth) devoted their entire lives to.Alec told Simon that there’s nothing that could make him question his loyalty…make him abandon the fight or turn against his own people…But seeing Izzy…HEARING her story? Hearing the pain, anger and betrayal in her voice?God…what a difference a day makes…
Relationships: Clary Fray/Isabelle Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago
Series: Monsters & Myths (Verse 3) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1344841
Comments: 22
Kudos: 30





	1. What A Difference A Day Makes…

**Author's Note:**

> Oookay…you know when just the freaking intro makes me kinda want to tear up that does NOT bode well. This one is gonna be pretty serious and probably about as dark as I am capable of going. It’s very unlikely any of it will be overly graphic or traumatic or anything like that but even so we’re really not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows here…not even close.
> 
> A lot of this story is gonna be from Izzy’s POV- we’re gonna have a lot of flashbacks…and…yeah…most of them are not gonna be fun ones- but you all know I always find a good balance between the serious and the sweet…
> 
> We’ll find it here too, I promise.
> 
> This story I am both really looking forward to and really dreading.
> 
> I’ve never written anything like this and on a side note I LOVE the fact that Izzy is getting a good, strong storyline. I really love strong female characters and she most definitely deserves a storyline that’s hers.
> 
> Oh, one more thing? From here on out I’m gonna try (TRY being the operative word) to keep to just having 1 section per chapter whenever possible. When I started writing having the multiple parts was a good way to beef up chapters as they were pretty short but as I now regularly have chapters that go over 10k words and my average length of sections has went from less than 2 k to around 4-6k or more I think we’re good.
> 
> Stories are still gonna be long (Don’t worry) still a lot of shifting POV’s cause I really love that, and likely still some random meandering parts just because I can’t seem to help it but from here on out I’m trying to cut down on the ‘filler’ type sections and chapters.
> 
> I don’t know how it’s gonna go…but that’s my goal…
> 
> Kay enough of me babbling…
> 
> Back to the actual story….
> 
> Here goes nothing…

## {*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}

##  _*-Alec-*-Alec-*-Alec-*-Alec-*-Alec-*_

## {*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}

“Ugh” he grumbled, rolling over for what seemed like the thousandth time, trying in vain to stop his spinning mind, to quiet the racing thoughts and torment for just a moment. Trying to get a tiny bit of peace and solace…but it seemed all but a lost cause.

Not that that was surprising.

Kinda hard to turn your mind off when you’ve just realized your mind has been pretty much off for nearly your entire life. When you realize the very cornerstone of your identity, your one absolute truth is anything but. That everything you thought you knew is wrong…is a lie.

When you spend your entire life giving everything you have protecting innocents from evil, threats and monsters only to find out that you’re in fact the monster.

_God…how could everything change so much so quickly?_

He’s a Lightwood- a protector through and through. It’s the very core of everything he is. Everything he’s ever known. It’s all he’s ever been, all he’s ever wanted to be. He’s a good, decent, righteous descendent of angels, a true defender of innocents. Dedicating his life, everything he has, to protecting humanity from the hidden evils of this world.

So many hidden evils.

Demons, goblins, magics, vampires, shifters, monsters…. _literal_ monsters. Beings with fangs, claws, scaly skin, acidic venom, vicious barbs, spikes and spines, glowing eyes, and ferocious, animalistic tempers. Beings that literally prey on the weak, innocent or vulnerable. Magical beings that can bend the elements and even reality itself to their will and whim, that treat the natural law as little more than a suggestion. Beings that could enchant, enthrall and bewitch you, leaving you as little more than a helpless puppet for their own amusement.

_Of course these beings were evil…they are literally the stuff of nightmares._

The war between the monsters and Angelus has been going for centuries. Longer than seemingly anyone can even really remember. The monsters were always there, just outside the human’s view, always right there, embedded with the humans, surrounding themselves with them, just waiting for their opening…and the descendants of Angels were always right there as well, ensuring they could not find it.

That is how it is…how it has always been.

Always.

He’s been a willing- at times fiercely enthusiastic- participant in this fight for near half his life. Fighting this war for well over a decade. His fought and fought and fought. Lost so many…taken even more.

There’s been so many losses, so many deaths, so much pain, fear and terror.

And yet throughout it all he has never, ever, not even for one moment questioned it. Any of it. Never questioned that they had to fight. Never questioned they were in the right. Never questioned that the untold amount of death, destruction and pain was necessary…was warranted…

Was righteous.

He has NEVER questioned it.

Not for one moment.

Not even when the fight took the life of his twin- his best friend and closest confidante. The one person in this entire world who ALWAYS had his back, without question, without hesitation. The person who knew him better than he even knew himself. The person who has been by his side- usually showing him up with a fair bit more flash and flair- from the day they were born right up to the day that horrible day she died.

Even then- on what was by far the worst day of his entire life- he never questioned.

Never.

Not even once.

He has dedicated his entire life to this. His siblings have dedicated their entire lives to this…pledged near everything they have to this fight. To the belief that they are in the right. That the fight is necessary, moral, just. That they are on the side of angels.

That they are good.

That HE is good.

They have dedicated their entire lives to a lie.

_God…_

_How has he NEVER questioned it?_

Is he stupid, blind, freaking brainwashed? How the hell do you make it to thirty years old, fighting a relentless, unending hidden war and never- not even for one god damned minute- think to question why the hell you are fighting? Never take a step back and really look- REALLY question?

**_Simon did._ **

Simon got it right off the bat. He knew something was off, saw it, and he was smart enough to listen to himself, go the hard road….the moral road…the REAL moral road.

The kid can fight, Alec’s seen him fight. Simon could make it as a hunter no sweat. Hell given the right motivation he could even give Alec a run for his money. Simon CAN fight…he CHOOSES not to. He chooses not to because he saw it…saw the issues, saw the questions, saw the blanket generalizations for exactly what they were and was unwilling to turn a blind eye to it like everyone else.

Saw that it was wrong, hatful, flawed…j-just wrong. he **_told_** Alec this…told him exactly WHY he thought this…And still nothing.

Even before Simon flat out told him he knew there had to be more to it than just ‘the kid liked studying more than fighting’. He knew it wasn’t anything as simple as he was just too scared or timid to fight. The guy was about the farthest thing from a coward there was- and yet it never occurred to Alec WHY someone who could fight would choose not to.

God he really was stupid.

Simon may not have spelled it out in actual words before but there were more than enough clues, and Simon was his best friend. He Should have known the real reason. Though he doesn’t know why he’s so surprised he didn’t pick up on the subtle when even Simon flat out telling him exactly why he didn’t fight barely even registered as little more than a worry the kid may be too kindhearted for his own good.

_He **heard** him damnit_…And he just blew it off like it was nothing…just sweet, adorable, ever-so-slightly naive Simon seeing the best in everyone like always.

_God **damnit** …_

SIMON told him…his best friend…a person he trusts more at times than he trusts himself **_told_** him this was wrong…and he shrugged it off.

Alec saw none of it…Just his duty, his just, righteous mission.

_God he was a fool._

How do you fight a war, fight battles, take lives… _god SO many lives_ … and never question why you are doing it…never question if it’s necessary?

Never question if it’s right?

_How does that happen?_

_God…everything he’s done._

Twelve years of near unrelenting fighting…unrelenting conflict and violence and pain and fear and blood…

So much senseless violence.

And for what?

To protect humans from the monsters?

_The monsters….ha…that’s rich._

He always thought he knew what side he’s on. He’s the descendent of angels… His people are the descendants of angles…they are on the side of angels…the good, just, moral side…

God he was a naive fool.

Blindly, unquestioningly following without a second thought.

How many innocent lives have been lost to this? How many innocent lives has he himself unknowingly taken? How much innocent blood is on his hands?

Does being duped into evil acts make you evil…or just stupid?

Does it really matter?

Does that actually change anything? In any way lessen your guilt?

No.

No it doesn’t.

It doesn’t and he doesn’t know anything that ever will. He knows what he’s done, it doesn’t matter why he’s did it or if he knew what he was doing or any of the rest of it…he did it. And he will have to live with it for the rest of his life.

He has no clue how he will.

But he will.

He has no choice.

He gave a louder groan, rolling over yet again, agitatedly pushing himself up, turning flipping over his pillow, trying to get it into a relatively comfortable position, punching it with far more fervor than is necessary wishing he could just get up and head to the training room, go a few rounds with the heavy bag, try to work some of this out.

He wants to but he can’t.

Couldn’t take the chance of someone seeing him…questioning him.

As fragile and frayed as his nerves are now heaven only knows what he’d let slip.

And unfortunately now heaven isn’t the only one who knows what the consequences could be for him or anyone he let slip to…

They could end up like Isabelle…

Or worse.

She managed to survive everything…but just barely.

He doesn’t know how she survived everything she did. Honestly neither does she.

She did though.

But just because she did doesn’t mean him or his other loved ones would fare nearly as well.

After all there are very few people as strong as Isabelle Lightwood.

##  {*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}


	2. Fight Night…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! We’re back. I know it’s been a while on this one. Sorry for the wait, got all the verses started now though so hopefully I can start updating a bit more evenly. Hoping I can kind of pick up the pace with the updates now that I have them all started and a more solid, clear idea of where the stories are gonna go ( I always start with an outline and general idea but it hardly ever actually just goes how I plan- most of the time I just start writing and see where I end up just having a few touchstones or scenes I want to work in and just build around that.)
> 
> Anyways here’s the next chapter- hope you like it!

## {*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*}

##  *-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*

## {*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*}

**_(Adirondack Preserve )_ **

**_(Five Years Earlier)_ **

A blinding light shot up into the moonless black night, soaring high above the tree line, bursting into an explosion of shimmering, crackling lights and ear splitting sounds, lighting up the surrounding forest brighter than the fourth of July, ground quaking with the sonic aftershocks of the magic blast.

_“Mika, left, move!”_ Izzy shouted over the chaos of the battle raging, catching sight of the hulking figure dropping off a tree branch landing just behind the younger fighter.

Mika startled, shifting down, narrowly avoiding a vicious blow from the Demon’s claws. Izzy rushed forward, leaping between the Demon and the newbie. She charged head on, putting her full weight and all the strength she could muster into the impact, shoulder catching the demon square in the abdomen, the creature letting out a wheezing gasp, doubling over, stumbling to the ground. Izzy turned, quickly pushing Mika back and away from the massive quilled beast, waving her back towards a cluster of other fledgling fighters dealing with two bizzaro- but far less powerful- lizard like terrors, closer to the other seasoned soldiers. Ensuring the fledgling fighter was closer to safety Izzy whirled back to face the huge, hulking vicious Rattlorcupine. The demon growled, shifting back up onto its feet, head shaking, causing the quills adorning its head to shake and shift.

_And man were there a lot of quills._

They start from what would be the hairline on a person, the shorter quills from the scalp running down to the base of its head before transitioning to the larger, sharper quills adorning the creatures shoulders that right now hang down somewhat resembling a shawl or cape of fringe. The demon shifted, glowing red eyes zeroing in on Izzy, bristling, the now rusty, blood colored quills color beginning to flicker and shift blue, giving a low, deep hiss like growl.

The Demons head tilts, scalp quills sharpening, beginning to stand on end.

Izzy’s gaze shifted over the creature, head shaking easily.

“Man…and I thought I was having a bad hair day.”

The demon snarled, head shifting the other way, letting out a low growl, snapping its jaws, exposing multiple rows of vicious, razor sharp teeth, eyes glinting like burning coals. It let out a sharp, gurgle-like hiss, arms flexing, causing the quills to shift, standing up totally straight, ready for battle, projecting out in seemingly all directions, the colors pulsating, shifting not just from the blood red to blue but also an alarming, near electric, orange and neon green.

It roared, stomping, ground trembling under the impact before unexpectedly lunging towards Izzy. She dodged, shifting to the side, pulling her seraph blade from its sheath, hitting the lumina morții activator on the knife’s hilt, the blade glowing white hot, electric blue snapping and crackling along the edge. The demons large, hellish eyes glowed brighter, locking on the blade. It’s deep blue lips pull back into a near maniacal, Cheshire cat like grin, again exposing those vicious rows of deadly, razor sharp fangs, releasing a low, deep growling hiss that seemed to reverberate clear through you.

The color of the quills on its shoulders began pulsating faster, more erratic, shaking and shivering, producing a sound similar to a rattlesnake…only bigger. Much bigger. And much more threatening.

It stomped in anger, quills rattling, making that terrifying hissing growl again before darting forward, swiping at her, claw tipped hands slicing the air just inches in front of Izzy’s face. She dodged the blow, shifting her grip, ducking another blow, plunging the searing, crackling knife deep into the demon’s side. The Rattlorcupine let out a blood curdling shriek, the wound smoking and sizzling, trying to get a hold of her, reflexes already slowed by the effects of the lumina morții. She ducked the grip, jerking forward sharply, pulling the creature off-balance, slamming it to the ground.

She shifted, wrenching the knife out, moving lightning fast, pressing her knee into the center of its back, pinning the monster to the ground, readjusting her grip on the knife, lifting it high, grip sure and practiced, aiming right between the beasts shoulder blades and the base of its neck, a killing blow. The blade plunges down, aiming right for the sweet spot.

Suddenly Izzy is hit by a blinding flash of yellow orange lights, heat and a quick burst of wind strong enough to knock her clear off the demon, sending her flying back nearly thirty feet, slamming hard into the trunk of a tree. She gasped in both surprise and pain, sliding down the trunk, breath completely escaping her, head spinning from the impact.

_Crap, what the hell was that?!_

She took a deep breath, stumbling, trying to pull herself back on her feet as quick as she could, grabbing her Seraph blade from the ground, readying for another magic blast attack, head whipping around, scanning for the source. Her eyes land on a man standing about fifteen feet from the gasping demon still sprawled out on the forest floor. Shimmering orange and gold sparks are dancing around the Magic’s still outstretched hands. He’s a somewhat gangly thing, with slightly messy black hair, dark eyes wide- looking nearly as surprised by what just happened as Izzy.

The man appears to be farthest thing from threatening, but she’s been at this for long enough not to be fooled by something as simple as a harmless presence. Many of the most terrifying supernatural’s sport a harmless or even pleasingly inviting appearance.

That’s what makes them so effective.

The magic blinks rapidly, glancing down at his hands, appearing almost confused, a slight breath of a near laugh escaping, looking over the rapidly fading shimmers before his eyes flicker up again, catching sight of Izzy. He startles, making a little ‘eep’ sound, color draining, hands darting behind his back as if to hide them, eyes even wider, slowly backing up.

“U-umm…so uh…tha-uh…that wa-” he began stumbling over the words.

Izzy shifted the Seraph blade in her grip, activating the lumina morții, the blade glowing white hot, power crackling.

“Run.”

_“Crap!”_ he exclaimed, whirling around, tearing off into the woods, stumbling, scrambling over the rough terrain.

Izzy darted after the magic, quickly closing the distance. He ducked and dodged, trying to throw his pursuer off but it was no use, Izzy’s like a bloodhound. They raced through the woods, coming upon a small, shallow near dry stream. The Magic stumbled, clawing his way up the small embankment on the other side of the waterway. At once the man lurches forward, crying out, foot catching on a tree root, ankle twisting. He turns to face her, scrambling backwards along the muddy bank, startling as his back comes into contact with the edge of the embankment, head shaking, dark eyes wide and fearful.

“P-please don’t.” He all but whimpers, hands raising in front of him pleadingly.

Izzy feels a pang of something resembling compassion before promptly pushing it down, recalling the magic attack. He threw her thirty feet, nearly knocking her out. He may look harmless but he’s a magic- Izzy may not know what kind but it doesn’t matter. He’s a magic, a supernatural…a monster.

God only knows what all he’s capable of.

shifts the blade, squeezing the pressure pad on the hilt, hitting twice, locking it on. The blade glowing brighter, electricity crackling about it, casting a sharp light over the magic. The light catches, his eyes reflecting it back like a cats, blinking. From one moment to the next the dark eyes shift from deep brown to a brilliant, flickering gold, pupils elongating, a little glimpse of a molted, spotted, pattern shifting over his skin.

Izzy’s breath catches.

_W-what? Th- a were…b-but…but h-no…_

_How was a were wielding Magic?_

_That was not possible._

_It wasn’t **supposed** to be possible._

But those are were-eyes, they’re unmistakable. And that was Magic she saw back in the fight, that she felt…she knows it… ** _also_** unmistakable. So how is that possible? As if a magic wasn’t dangerous enough- now they had freaking **_were-magics?_**

**_How is that even a thing?!_ **

How do you deal with something that dangerous?

Same way you’d deal with any terrifyingly dangerous monster or demon she supposes.

Get it before it gets you.

She shifted, rolling the blade, grip adjusting before darting forward, lightening quick. The Magic squeaked, hands going up, the shimmering sunset sparkly light flickering about his fingers. Izzy braced for the impact of the magic attack, dodging to the left before ricocheting right back on course, barreling head on towards the caster, hand raising, plunging the blade downwards, all focus on the target.

That was a mistake…

A rookie mistake.

She never even saw a flash of the leopard before she’s struck, hitting her full force, sharp claws digging into her shoulders, ripping her backwards away from the magic whatever. She screams, the claws burning like fire. She tries to turn, to strike, landing a glancing blow in the creature’s left flank. It roars but it doesn’t sound like a pain sound, it sounds like a scream of anger, of pure, unadulterated rage. it cuts through Izzy, sending a shiver down her spine. She struggles, trying to land another blow but he can’t get the right angle. The creature growls, Jaws opening wide, she feels the long, deadly canines slicing into the flesh of his upper arm, shaking viciously.

_Oh…no…_

_A were-bite…oh god no…_

She screams again, the pain unlike anything she’s ever felt- it’s like a fire burning through her, igniting every cell. It’s not just a bite…it’s a death sentence. It’s a were-bite. Those are deadly… ** _always_** deadly.

Oh god…s-she’s not coming back from this. The leopard’s teeth dig in even deeper, feeling like they’re going to cut clean through her arm, She loses her grip on the knife, the blade falling to the ground. Suddenly she’s wrenched back, flung through the air like a rag doll, slamming hard into one of the boulders surrounding the stream.

Izzy gasps for air, head spinning, eyesight swimming, doubling and fading. feeling suddenly blazingly hot and icy cold, pulse roaring in her ears.

A terrifying, screaming roar echoes, pounding into his skull, the lithe, graceful cat slinking around, coming to rest between the man on the ground and Izzy, hunching down, ready to strike, standing directly over her still glowing Seraph blade. It’s eyes glint like fire, snarling, baring razor sharp fangs. She can see blood dripping from them…her blood. She tries to hold onto conscious but she can tell it’s a losing battle.

_Oh god…her head’s swimming already…swimming from blood loss…_

_Swimming from the toxin…_

The leopard roars again, those vicious eyes flashing dangerously, bloodied fangs glinting in the stark light of the blade, casting the leopard in a near ethereal light, everything else seemingly fading, slipping into the growing darkness swimming around the edges of her vision.

She shifts, struggling against the encroaching darkness, trying in vain to push herself up, not wanting to meet her demise cowering on her back in the mud. She takes as deep of breath as she possibly can, mustering every last ounce of strength she still possess, propping herself up against the boulder, looking the circling beast dead in the eye. It roars again, stalking closer as her vision fades, the darkness finally overwhelming her, feeling herself fade into nothingness.

Her last conscious thought is which was more humane- being ripped apart by the leopard or dying from the searing toxin she can already feel coursing through her veins.

She doesn’t know which is worse…

But in a morbidly glib, head spinning final thought she’s rather glad she at least won’t be conscious to find out.

##  {*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _lumina mor_ _ț_ _ii: The Light Of Death (cheery I know lol)_
> 
> _Rattlorcupine- Rattlesnake + Porcupine_
> 
> Okay I actually really like how this went- I think this is gonna be a really exciting, really unique story- and verse. Hope the action/fight scene was good for you guys and kind of makes up for the long wait.
> 
> I actually really like how it turned out. I wanted this chapter to be fairly short because it was solely going to be the fight and those work best when they’re fast paced. I know Izzy’s a bit colder here than usual but…well…in this world that’s probably the case for near everyone…
> 
> Well…except Simon…
> 
> I know it cuts off rather abruptly but it’s a logical ending. And I know the magical were is a bit out of left field but I know what I’m doing- promise.
> 
> So what do you guys think?


	3. A Waking Nightmare

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##  *-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*

## {*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*}

“Wha-!”

Isabelle gasped, startling awake, eyes popping open before promptly slamming closed hissing in pain. Her hand shoots up, covering her eyes as she’s hit by a sharp, throbbing pain in her head, swallowing back a wave of nausea at an annoyingly familiar spinney, swoopy feeling.

_Hello Concussion old friend...been a while._

Not nearly as long as she’d have really liked but longer than she has had in a bit. Wonder how the hell she got this one.

It’s a mystery right now but that’s just par for the course. It’ll come back- it always does. She just has to relax, try not to force it, and work through one step at a time.

Well...if anything she knows how to work through it...Hell by now she has an actual freaking routine.

Gotta admit not a skill she thought she’d acquire but it does come in handy. And by this point she can practically do it in her sleep...

Well...sleep...concussion addled mind...pretty much same thing. Just breathe and work through the list. She’s already started.

Step one’s pretty well done- check for any immediate danger. It’s a bit tricky when you’re head’s spinning and you can’t open your eyes without risking blinding pain and gagging however by now she’s got that down too.

She can’t rely on sight so she just has to lean more in to her other senses. She relaxes, inhaling, holding her breath listening for any clues.

Hmm...nothing...

No breathing, no movement in her immediate vicinity...so she is alone...

Okay not great but not the worst possible outcome either.

Alone means she doesn’t have any help close by...but it also means no possible attacker about to strike...meaning no trying to fight while concussed...definitely a benefit.

Kay...not immediate threats...what else?

Hmm...she’s inside, lying on the floor. The floor is hard and cold...so cold it nearly burns, she shifts a bit, trying to adjust without moving enough to exacerbate her spinning head but it’s really no use. There’s nothing on the floor, it’s bare...and the air’s kind of stale, she doesn’t feel any circulation...no fresh air...meaning likely no windows...

_Oookay...Stale, cold, windowless rooms are rarely a good sign._

It’s pretty quiet...actually...not quiet; _muffled_...and kind of echo-y. If she really strains she can pick up faint sounds from outside the room but it’s totally indecipherable. A bit of movement, maybe the murmur of voices...but they sound so very far away.

The only other thing she hears besides her pulse thrumming in her ears and her own breathing is a dull, sporadic dripping. First instinct would be a sink but that doesn’t seem right. The tone isn’t right...it’s different. kinda reminds her of when she was a kid, when they’d dare each other to sneak into the steam tunnels below the institute, the sounds of the condensation and dripping pipes plunking into the standing puddles littering the ground.

_Umm...yeah...crap._

Okay...so...lying on a cold, hard bare floor, concussed, in a freezing cold, windowless room with a leaky pipe...

_Uh...yyyeah..._

_She’s going with crap again._

She has to be captured...maybe a fight went bad and she was taken. Kay...captured is not good...

Also not exactly a totally alien experience for her. She shifts slowly, cautiously testing her movement...huh...kay...one good thing. She isn’t restrained in any way. Definite plus.

So she’s likely been captured by someone but she’s alone and has her full range of movement...She’s made it out of worse...

At least she thinks she has. It’s a bit harder to concentrate as she has to keep shifting faintly in an attempt to chase away the cold seeping through her clothes from the floor.

_Geez...Why is it so cold? No way it should be this cold- it’s freaking May!_

Man it feels like the dead of winter...not just like ‘chilly they turned the air up too high’ like literally ‘I can see my breath’ cold. Maybe whatever caught her is some kind of ice fae or frost demon...something more specially adapted to the cold.

That could make sense...

Doesn’t make it any more pleasant.

Damnit she wishes she went more for the dark broody, gothy gloves and layers aesthetic. Be a hell of a lot better more useful right now than her fashionably distressed jeans, slinky red top and trusty leather jacket.

At least she has the jacket but it’s hardly blizzard wear. Which is what it feels like she needs right about now.

_Geez...She swears it’s like a walk in fre-_

Her heart stops, everything in her coming to a screeching halt.

_O-oh...oh no..._

_T-that...no..._

_Please not that..._

Gasping she shifts, taking a deep, steadying breath, bracing for the pain and nausea she knows is gonna hit but powering though it, needing to know exactly what she’s in here, forcing her eyes open hoping against hope she’s not gonna see what she thinks she’s gonna see.

She startles, hissing at the assault of far brighter than expected light on her overly sensitive eyes, swallowing against the nausea welling up, bracing against the surging pain, feeling both receding behind a near crushing wave of terror the likes of which she’s never felt at the sight before her.

Grey. Burnished. Stainless steel. Above her, beneath her...surrounding her. It’s a box. a metal box...a freezing cold, windowless, airless metal box.

Seven feet square room. She doesn’t see where the dripping sound is coming from- it’s not in the room...nothing is in the room...the box. The only features to the room are a black speaker inset into the wall next to a large, bank vault looking door. She can make out what looks like a glass inset. It’s about a foot and a half wide and comes about halfway down the door...it seems like some kind of viewing window. There’s a covering over the opposite side now. She can see the glint of ice crystals forming around the edges.

_T-there’s no ventilation...there’s no air duct...no windows...nothing._

_There’s nothing._

_It’s just a freezing cold, metal box._

A metal box she’s gonna die in. Likely while whoever put her here watches from outside.

_O-oh..._

_Oh god..._

_O-oh...no...no...please no...._

_Nonononono...._

_Oh...god..._

_T-this...n...oh god..._

Her breath catches as a deep, bone rattling shiver slips through her. It’s the kind of cold that goes deeper than your skin, the kind that seeps into you, that you feel clear down to your bones, that makes your skin hurt and your teeth chatter so hard you’d worry it’s gonna break your jaw.

She doesn’t know if it’s from the actual temperature or from the deep, overwhelming, all-consuming wave of terror she feels bubbling up, creeping into her spinning, throbbing mind.

The pain and nausea spikes, a terrified, pained half sobbing whimper slipping out. She feels her muscles lock, tighten to the point of near spasming, heart beginning to speed up, pulse surging and roaring in her ears, breath coming in fast erratic gulps.

_Oh god...S-she can’t...n-not like this...that...that’s not...oh no...t-that’s j...oh...god please...please d-_

_No._

_S-stop...Stop that._

**_Stop._ **

Stop being a panicky little bitch. You panic you’re sealing your fate. Panic won’t help a damn thing. Panic equals death. Panicking is just a waste of oxygen.

And you don’t have oxygen to waste.

You panic you’re just helping whoever put you here...making it easier for them...Likely giving them exactly what they want.

_To hell with that._

_You will not be complacent in your own death._

_You_ **_won’t._ **

Stop spinning. Stop spiraling. Get your head on straight. Get it together. Stop helping whoever put you here.

You’re not some scared little child. Not some newbie fresh out of training still wet behind the ears. You are no easy target. You are not a freaking victim.

_You are_ _Isabelle_ _Lightwood_ _._

You have faced demons, magics, shifters, full on monsters, most every last horror imaginable and you have come out on top every single time. You’ve protected countless innocents. You have led fights against throngs of nightmares and sent them running with their tails between their legs.

You have handled more solo missions in your first five years than most do in their entire lifetime in the field. You’ve faced things that by all rights you never should have come back from. That no one thought you’d come back from.

_You have taken out_ **_literal_ ** _living nightmares with nothing but a smirk and a freaking strappy gold stiletto._

**_And you won._ **

You make battle hardened generals twitchy.

_You are a fighter. A warrior. The best the institute has to offer._

_You are_ _Isabelle_ **_Freaking_** _Lightwood_ _._

You get knocked down or backed into a corner you don’t just panic and cry like some simpering, mewling little weakling. You don’t curl up in a whimpering ball and wait for death. _You come out swinging._

_You don’t get ‘Scared’..._

_You get_ **_pissed._ **

Who the HELL thinks they can get rid of Isabelle Freaking Lightwood by just tossing her in a god damned icebox? Get rid of one of the most highly regarded, respected and feared Angelus to ever grace the institute without so much as breaking a nail.

_Oh_ **_hell_ ** _no._

_No way is she going down that easily._

If someone’s gonna take her out they are damn sure gonna have to **_work_** for it. If someone comes for her she’s doing her damnedest to take them with her.

_Ooh...okay...that helped. Heart and pulse are still racing, but it’s now the familiar cadence of anger. That’s good...anger she can work with. Anger motivates._

_She works best angry._

_So let’s get to work._

Same process as the Concussion system; Stay calm, list what needs to be dealt with, work it one step at a time, don’t force anything, don’t try to jump ahead. Take it one step at a time, work with what you got and repeat.

_Alright...list..._

She’s freezing cold, possibly in shock, most _definitely_ concussed, trapped in a freezing cold, metal box with a freaking viewing window and speaker. She does not know how she got here or who put her here. She doesn’t know how long she’s been here or have any idea where ‘here’ is. She doesn’t know what events lead her to here...

_Aaand that’s about all she knows._

_Well..._

_That list really sucks._

Basically she knows nothing and by all accounts she’s near certainly screwed.

Oookay...list was not exactly helpful but it’s step one. It’s a start. Hey, if anything there’s really nowhere to go but up here.

_Really how can it possibly get worse?_

Kay, the biggest issue is the box but there’s not a hell of a lot she can do about that right now. But it is the biggest, most looming issue. It doesn’t matter what else is in play- she runs out of oxygen it’s game over.

Hmm...so if the box is seven by seven by seven that’s around two hundred and fifty CFM...that means she has around sixteen hours of oxygen.

_Okay not great but she’s pretty sure she’s worked her way out of worse with less._

_Sixteen hours...she can work with sixteen hours._

Alright- got her list and her timetable. Sixteen hours max...She doesn’t know how long she’s been here but if there’s ice crystals forming on the door and the speaker then it’s probably around the freezing point. She’s in jeans, a tank top and her leather jacket. Nothing she’s wearing is overly shielding, she can feel the cold creeping through and she has to keep shifting so where her body touches the floor doesn’t get to numb. If that’s the case she couldn’t have been in here too terribly long before she came too. Most she could have been out here is an hour- hour and a half tops...

If she was in freezing temperatures for longer than that she wouldn’t just feel cold, she’d be verging on hypothermic.

Much like the Concussion she’s actually felt that enough to be able to identify it. She’s cold but going from her experience she has at least a good six hours before that’d start to set in...

_So a bonus clock...peachy._

Whatever, she knows, she has a rough estimate of what she has to work with. Best she can hope for here. On the ‘positive’ side her panic over the whole locked in a freezer thing seemed to help her push through the effects of the concussion...so that’s something...

_Well...something-ish._

There’s still a pretty persistent, dull ache in her head but it’s far more manageable then when she first came to. Also she doesn’t have the nauseous feeling anymore so that’s another for the win column.

So her ‘win’ column basically consists of ‘hey, you’re not dead yet’....It’s pretty slim but she’ll take whatever positives she can at this point.

She takes another deep breath, hesitantly pushing herself to her feet, hissing in pain of her stiff muscles being forced into movement. She feels kind of shaky on her feet, light headed and kind of woozy. 

_Oookay...maybe that wasn’t such a good idea with the whole concussion thing..._

_Okay...work through it...breathe..._

_Just breathe...you got this..._

_J-just get your bearings..._

_You’re fine..._

_You’ve faced worse._

She takes a deep breath, stumbling over to the wall,

bracing against it. She rests her arms against it, taking deep, measured breaths, facing the wall, hoping focusing on the monotone, gunmetal grey will stop the spinning.

She breathes through it, gaze slipping over the wall, taking in the blank, flat tone...the monotony when her eye catches on something about a foot or so from her arm...

T-there...there’s scratches in the wall. Why are there scratches in the wall? Letting her eyes shift around she spots more...they’re faint...but they’re there...they’re there embedded in solid stainless steel.

What creature could leave marks in solid steel?

W-were other’s locked in this box...Animals...supernaturals? Had supernaturals been locked up in here before? B-but...no...that...that doesn’t make sense.

_Who would be capturing both supernaturals AND Angelus?_

_T-that makes no sense..._

_What w-_

Her thoughts are cut off by a sudden, spinning feeling, a sharp, near overpowering wave of heat washing over her. Instantly she goes from freezing cold to massively overheated. She’d nearly think it was the beginning stages of hypothermia but- _again_ \- she’s experienced that enough times to know the feeling.

You do start to feel warm but it’s not an instant thing, and you feel _hot_...you don’t feel like you’re on fire. Plus you feel much colder and numb beforehand...she’s easily three or four steps from that.

_So what the hell is this?_

_She doesn’t know but she does NOT like i-ah...oh..._

_Oh..._

She gasps at a sharp, piercing pain shooting through her... _n-no..._ not just through her, **_over_** her...and through her...everywhere. She feels like pins and needles rolling over her entire body, nerve endings suddenly raw, worn and frayed, feeling like her skins being burned, scorched from both inside and out.

_Oh god...there goes the nausea...o-only it’s different...it’s not the motion sickness, head spinney, rolling stomach feel like usual._

This is worse...SO much worse...She swears it feels like her insides are turning, twisting, and squishing.

_Oh god..._

She gasps, resting her forehead against the cool metal, the cold, smooth texture near soothing against her suddenly feverish skin. She whimpered, bracing against the wall, pushing her jacket off, pressing more against the chilled metal, trying in vain to somehow quell the burning heat engulfing her.

She swallowed, taking a few gulp-y, gasping, shallow breaths, trying to push through the pain...her skin feeling near blistering hot, nerves screaming like they’re on fire, like a liquid flame slipping through her veins- it’s unlike anything she’s ever fel-

_W-wait...no...that’s not true..._

_She has felt it before..._

_But w-_

_F-fight..._

_There was a fight..._

She remembers a fight...a recent fight...but it’s all a jumbled mess, flashes of painfully bright shards of memories cut through with darkness as if she’s seeing them through a strobe light.

There’s darkness...a park? N-no...not a park, bigger...wilder...a forest. They were in a forest...it was dark then bursts of light and deafening sounds...the darkness cut through like the fourth of July.

There was running, shouting, the familiar rushes of adrenalin, fear and excitement that always accompany a battle and a sharp bursts of pain and a terror unlike anything she’s ever felt...

And then the liquid fire...the scorching nerves...and more pain...a sharp, vicious pain that rips through her, makes her cry out in agony...in terror...

_The sounds echoed by a roar..._

Not a roar of pain...one of hate and anger...An ear splitting half roar half scream that echoes in her head...that she still hears ringing in her ears.

The roar of the leopard...

The roar that echoed in her head, inches from her ear...that she’ll never forget, never not hear echoing throughout her brain. The popping sound of those vicious deadly claws ripping into her flesh, Those wicked, razor sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight, plunging down like her dagger, slicing into her skin.

She gasps eyes popping open in horror, head whipping around, gaze falling on her arm, freezing.

_W-wha..._

T-there are what look like claw marks there, large slashes that wrap around, trailing from her shoulder down and over her bicep...b-but...

But they’re not new marks...they’re not fresh, they look completely healed. More than healed...

_They look weeks old._

_B-but...but that’s impossible. No way she’s been here long enough for them to heal...there’s no way._

There’s no way she’s lost _weeks_ of memories... _There’s no way she survived for weeks..._

_There’s no way she’s survived a day._

_T-there just isn’t._

A were bite is deadly...it is ALWAYS deadly. And quick...people don’t make it more than an hour or two. If they’re lucky enough to get it in time they’re rushed to the institutes Trauma ward to be put under before the worst of the pain hits. It’s not a cure...just a way to dull the pain and keep their last few moments from descending into an insanity inducing, agonizing hell.

They succumb within a matter of hours. They never even get a chance to say goodbye. It’s without question one of the worst possible ways to die...the greatest fear of every Angelus.

Everyone knows that. It is hammered into them -Drummed into them- from the first day of academy all the way through the last.

A were bite is a death sentence. It is always a death sentence. It’s fast, and excruciating...and final.

If you are bit you are good as dead.

There is no cure...no fix...

No hope...

And she was bitten...

_Oh god...oh god...s-she..._

_She was bitten..._

She’s not dying from Oxygen depletion or hypothermia or whatever jackass Saw impersonator that locked her in here...she’s not going out in a blaze of glory fighting to her last breath like she always thought she would.

She’s never gonna find out who put her in here...never get her chance to go after them...

_What would be the point?_

Doesn’t really matter who locked her in here...they missed their chance...late to the party...all they managed to do was lock up a corpse. What’s the point of trying to escape...she’s already dead...now she’s just catching up with the inevitable.

She knows it’s happening...she can feel it...had _been_ feeling it... the venom coursing through her veins. That scorching, liquid fire shooting through her...

She knows what it is now...

It’s her body succumbing to the toxin.

_The_ ** _incurable_** _toxin._

She’s done...She just is. There’s no last minute rescue...no eleventh hour twist...no sudden turn...no escape. There’s no more tricks, moves, or angles to work. There’s no fighting an enemy...

There’s no enemy to fight.

She is dying.

This is her end.

_Damn..._

_She was really hoping for something a bit less depressing._

She took another shaky breath, a faint sob slipping out, turning around, sliding down the wall, crumpling down onto the floor in a defeated, pitiful heap.

_God..._

She’s gone...she’s done...e-everything...it’s all gone. All her work, all her plans, her skills, effort, all her promise. Everything she’s given...everything she’s put in...everything she nearly killed herself trying to accomplish...and it’s gone. It’s all ending here. Right here. In a cold metal box, alone, locked away from the world.

_God..._

_S-she never going to see her family again...her parents..._ _Jace_ _..._ _Max_ _..._ _Alec_ _..._

_Oh god..._ **_Alec_ ** _..._

What’s Alec gonna do without her? He’s never been without her. Been by her side from the day they were born. They’ve never been apart for more than a week. How is he ever going to survive without her?

_H-he will...won’t he? Survive? I-I mean they’re twins...there’s a bond there that...she’s heard of people losing their twin and n-_

_N-no._

No...T-that’s not going to happen...Alec will be okay...he’ll make it...

He will. He has to.

He has to for Jace and Max. Has to lead them...keep them safe...help them grow up.

_They’re going to need him more than ever now that s-_

_Oh god..._

She sniffled, feeling the tears slipping down her cheeks totally unchecked. Usually she’d try to fight it off, put on a brave face, not stoop to showing such weakness...but...hell...

_Who cares now?_

There’s no one to keep a brave face for...just her.

_A corpse waiting for the inevitable._

She sat on the floor, crying, balling like never before. Thinking about everything she’s going to miss out on...wishing she got more time with the boys...that she could have another chance...

Hoping they’ll be safe...be happy...

That they’ll have good lives.

They should...

They deserve it...

They deserve everything...

She took a deep, gasping breath, head thunking back against the wall, head shaking faintly at the unfairness of it all.

_God this is gonna rip them apart._

Do they know already? Are they setting somewhere right now, mourning her...Or are they still in the dark...still happy...still thinking everything’s fine.

That everyone’s okay.

That their world isn’t going to be changed forever.

God...this will devastate them. It’s gonna cause them so much pain- SHE is going to cause them so much pain. She’s going to devastate them, shake everything they ever believed, turn their worlds upside down...rip it apart...destroy any amount of peace, sanctuary or stability they ever thought they had in this crazy, terrifying, violent world of theirs.

She is going to be the source of the worst pains of their young lives...She is gonna **_cause_** it...and there’s not one damn thing she can do to stop it.

T-that...god...that feels worse than the venom...worse than the twist in her gut or the stabbing fire and raw, exposed nerves feeling she feels on her skin clear down to her bones...it’s worse than any physical pain ever could be.

She’s gonna be the cause of one of the worst pain her brothers likely ever experience. Gonna take away everything they ever thought they could count on... god. She wished there was some way she could ease the pain. A way to help them through this.

She’s never really been a religious person- ironic being a literal decedent of angels- but she’s never really put much thought into what’s beyond this life- she always had too much to deal with in the here and now to worry about what comes next.

She always figured spinning about what comes next was like working yourself into a frenzy trying to figure out the end of a book. You’re gonna find out eventually and if you spend all your time theorizing about the ending you’re likely to miss out on all the interesting, absorbing, exciting parts in the middle.

That mindsets always served her well...Though right about now she’s kinda wishing she wasted at least a bit of time on it.

She’s not afraid of what’s coming...whatever it is she knows she’s lived a good life...an honorable life. She dedicated everything to fighting the good fight...protecting innocents from monsters. She’s been a leader and a fighter and a protector every step of the way.

W-who knows...maybe she still will be...

Perhaps the fairytales are true. Maybe being finished with your life doesn’t mean you’re automatically done with the lives of those you love. If she can’t be by her brother’s sides in life maybe she will be in another way. Like their guardian angel.

God knows those three needed one.

Maybe she will be...

It’s the best she can hope for...Better than thinking it’s just all gonna end. Maybe she will get to look after them...keep them safe. Get to see Max and Jace grow up...Maybe she’ll still on some level get to be there for them...

God she hopes so...

She sighed, sniffing, blinking away the tears...

_Ugh...she hated crying..._

She doesn’t have anyone to put on a brave face for except herself but she’s sure as hell not going out of this world curled up on the floor in a ball with a tear stained face.

Whatever else she is she’s better than that.

She sniffed again, beginning to move to stand, taking a deep breath, reaching up, scrubbing at her face, whi-

_Ow!_

She startles at a sharp scratch along her hairline.

_What the hell?_

That...what...she can feel a trickle of blood already starting at her temple.

_What in th-did she have a hang nail or s-_

She pulled her hands away from her face, holding them up to examine before freezing.

_W-wha...t...wh..._

H-her...her nails...her nails are black...glimmering black. They’re no longer the fashionable short, almond shape she usually favors...they’re long... Far longer than she usually has them. And _sharp_. Very sharp, tapering to a vicious dagger point...

A claw like point.

She can see a deep, coppery smudge on one of them...blood...

**_Her_ ** _blood..._

_What the hell?_

She startled, blinking, thinking it’s a trick of the light, or of her poison addled, concussed mind but...no...it’s not changing.

She inhales sharply, turning her hands, flexing...the nails seem to elongate even more, she swears she literally feels them extending...like stretching a muscle.

_W-what th-what the hell?_

_Wha-i-is...is this part of the venom? Does it mess with your mind...your perception? Does i-_

That odd pins and needle feeling slipped over her again, it’s stronger this time...much stronger. She gasps as her eyes catch a faint rippling glimmer of something...a pattern flickering over her skin, just barely perceptible...

A worryingly familiar pattern.

_W-what..._

_Wh...was that...w..._

Is she losing it? Does the venom effect your mind as well as your body? She hasn’t heard of that but...well...she’s never actually heard a full account of someone dying from the venom.

She knew it killed you...that it was a hundred percent fatal and _excruciatingly_ painful and that you were gone in an instant...that you never even had a chance to say goodbye to anyone.

She knew that...but...what about the lead up to the death? Did you hallucinate during your final moments...did it cloud your mind...destroy your mind...

_D-did it?_

_What that what was hap-_

She felt the ripple again, this one deeper. She squeezes her eyes shut, not wanting to see again, a slight whimper slipping out...

_It’s not real...it’s not real...it’s not real..._

It’s a mantra on a continuous loop in her head...

_What she’s seeing is not real...she’s hallucinating...it’s the poison...the venom...it’s not real..._

_It’s not real..._

_It’s n-_

She sobs, startling as the sound suddenly cranks up to thirteen. It’s like her ears popped, everything’s suddenly crystal clear and blaringly loud. She can hear everything... ** _everything_**.

The drip sounds like it echoes, reverberates...like it’s an inch from her ear. She hears water surging through pipes and the buzzing of electricity in the walls beyond and the rattle of machinery and some kind of scratching rodent like noises and a mind rattling cacophony of other sounds that shouldn’t even begin to register but sound like they’re pounding into her head. From outside she can hear movement, shuffling feet, and squeaking shoes and keys rattling and beeps, boops and swishes of different machinery...

The quiet, barely discernable murmuring outside now sounds like they’re right here- like they’re blaring though a speaker set on full blast. She can hear talking, shouting, laughing, crying, sobbing, screaming, breathing... S-she can hear heartbeats.

_H-how..._

_How can she hear heartbeats?_

_How can she hear heartbeats through_ **_solid steel?_ **

_T-that’s not possible...it’s not....i-_

She feels the rippling slinking over her again, this one deeper than before, the scorching fire coursing through her veins. It’s sharp and excruciating...unbearable. Worse than any pain she’s ever imagined. She crumples to the floor rolling into a ball in a vain attempt to protect herself but it’s no use. It doesn’t help.

Nothing helps...

She feels the ripple going deeper, like a million little needle pricks, slipping over her skin...feels her stomach roll again, the shifting, squishing, lurching, feels her muscles shift, stretch and contract...she hears popping and snapping, an odd crunching sound like metal on metal...

Or bone on bone...

It’s loud, defining, ringing through her ears, barrowing into her skull.

She panted, the sound coming out off, with a soft rumble like thunder, head lurching to the side at a sharp, unnatural angle. She hears her neck crack so loud and distinct she’s sure something’s broken, doesn’t feel it but knows it’s coming, unable to keep in a pained, terrified scream....but the scream shifts as well.

It goes lower, taking on a deeper, louder, wilder sound. The sound that echoed in her brain.

_Oh god...t-this is it..._

_This is the end..._

She can feel it...feel the fire coursing, the rippley feeling surging over her...feels like her heads going to explode. She squeezes her eyes shut tight, folds in on herself and waits for the inevitable...

_O-only..._

_It never comes._

She feels the fire begin to dissipate, to ease. The needle like feeling in her skin soothes. Her insides stop rolling...the volume even out...they’re still there but not as deafening. Eventually her muscles stop contracting, begin to ease...she feels her breathing even out, temperature regulating.

She swallows, cautiously shifting, bracing for the pain to return with the movement but it doesn’t.

_W-wha-_

Taking a deep breath she shift, cautiously rolling over, pushing herself up into a sitting position. She groans faintly, feeling her muscles protesting the movement...still it’s nothing like it just was. Kinda feels like after a really intense fight- when she’s worked muscles she didn’t even know she had. It’s a bit sore but nothing like it was just a matter of minutes ago.

She groaned, stretching her back, rolling her neck, trying to work out the stiffness. She rolls her head slowly from side to side, feeling the muscles flex and pull, reaching up, pushing her hair back, before slowly blinking her eyes open in confusion...

She freezes, heart jumping. Everything is lit up like noon, every detail in the room standing out like it’s lit in neon....she can see everything...every detail. It’s as if she has a zoom lens on...she can see the scratches in the walls, the crisscross pattern on the speaker, the bolts in the door, the glas-

She startles, catching sight of a creature staring back at her through the glass...glimmering golden yellow eyes flickering in the dark, sharp, unsettlingly familiar features, a sprinkling of rosette like spots.

Only...looking...t-the covers still down on the other side of the door...it’s just the glass...the reflection in the glass...It’s clear as day...clear as a mirror...

_A reflection..._

_HER reflection..._

_B-but..._

_But not her..._

She doesn’t see herself staring back...

She sees a creature...

A monster...

A were...

_It’s not a reflection...It’s a hallucination..._

_Just another hallucination..._

_That’s what it is..._

_That’s all it is..._

All it can be...

It can’t be her...

It ** _can’t._**

She blinks...

The Creature blinks...

She tilts her head, hand coming up, pushing her hair back away from her face, gasping...

The creature tilts it’s head, hand coming up, pushing it’s dark golden brown tinged hair back, strands slipping through wickedly clawed fingers, blazingly golden eyes catching, reflecting, glowing like flames, mouth opening, revealing a glimpse of razor sharp fangs.

_Oh god...please no..._

_J-just let this be her mind breaking as she dies..._

_Oh please...please just be a delusion..._

_A side effect of the toxin..._

_A hallucination..._

_O-oh god..._

_Please..._

_No..._

##  {*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Umm...w-well...there it is._
> 
> Hey I warned you all this wasn’t gonna be all puppies and rainbows okay?
> 
> I know it kinda spun and bounced around a fair bit but...hey the girl thinks she’s facing her death...a few different deaths...stands to reason it’d ricochet.
> 
> I actually really like how this one went. It took me a fair bit longer to write then most- but I kind of figured it would- part of the reason I wanted to save it for the last to update.
> 
> It’s not really a headspace I’m used to getting into but it is one that I like to explore- if anything else to flex my creative muscles and see how far I can push myself.
> 
> _So what’d you guys think?_
> 
> And I seem to say this every update but Sorry it’s been so long between updates- thank you all for being so patient. I really have been trying to update more regularly but things just keep getting in my way. I keep saying I’m gonna try to update more frequently but I think I need to stop saying that. I do and it seems to either summon random obstacles into my way (Or send my mind spinning down the rabbit hole on useful but time consuming things).
> 
> You all know I’ll write as much as I can whenever I can. Really hoping I’ll have another update on Monday or Tuesday (Those are my days off next week).
> 
> I’d like to say before that but the weekends really hard for me to get time and with the holiday it’s even harder than usual. In any case I will as soon as I possibly can...hope this will hold you over till then. J
> 
> So with this update I’ve made it through the entire rotation of updates so it’s time to restart back at the beginning...Here’s the list:
> 
> A Start Of Something New (Verse 7)
> 
> The Girl/Demon In The Mirror (Verse 4)
> 
> Nosey Neighbors (Verse 9)
> 
> Love Bug (Verse 2)
> 
> Picture Perfect (Verse 8)
> 
> You Can’t Go Home Again (Verse 1)
> 
> A Study In Chaos (Verse 6)
> 
> This Is Why You Don’t Wander Away From The Group (Verse 5)
> 
> Death Was Just The Beginning (Verse 3)
> 
> _Next up is V7 A Stat of Something New..._


	4. A Rude Awakening

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##  *-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*-Izzy-*

## {*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*}

_It’s just a hallucination._

_All in your mind._

_That’s not you._

_It’s not..._

_It-_

She groaned, reaching up, rubbing at her eyes, hoping against hope THIS time it will make some kind of a damn difference, that when she opens her eyes she will no longer see t-that **_thing._**

The were- _the monster_ \- staring back wearing her face.

She squeezes her eyes closed, taking a loud, gulping breath, saying a silent prayer to any higher power that might care to listen.

_Oh please...please just make this go away...make it stop...just go away...please...please..._

She sniffled faintly, fearfully blinking her eyes open, downcast gaze catching on her hands lying limp in her lap. Her breath catches, just barely managing to fight back another sob at the repulsive sight that greets her.

_God...it’s gotten even worse._

Her nails are full on claws now; long, deadly sharp and vicious. Her fingers look elongated and grotesque. She keeps telling herself it’s all in her mind, she’s delusional, poisoned, on the cusp of death, but it’s getting harder and harder to believe.

_She WANTS to believe it._

_Wants desperately to believe it._

It doesn’t feel like it’s in her mind, doesn’t feel like a delusion. It **_feels_** real.

She holds her hand up in front of her face, stretching her fingers out, flexing...she can feel the claws elongate, feel them pulling out, stretching out of her skin. It’s an unsettling, disturbing feeling.

Her skin is now a rich burnished gold dotted with deep rosette like spots. They trail from the back of her hands up her arms...arms that seem longer, stronger, more powerful. She doesn’t just think it’s her arms. Her clothes feel tighter, far tighter than usual, almost uncomfortably so. Her legs look longer as well, she can feel the muscles coiling and stretching with every move and the tops of her boots which have fit perfectly for weeks suddenly feel like they’re cutting off her circulation.

It all feels real.

Too real...

_Oh god..._

She swallows, taking a deep breath, blinking back tears, gaze shifting from her vicious, elongated claw tipped hands up, landing on her reflection in the glass. Her features are sharper but unmistakably _hers_. There’s no getting around it.

_That is her._

The monster she sees staring back is **_her._** Those rosette like spots adorn her cheeks, trailing along her hairline and over the curve of her jaw. Her ears are faintly turned, coming to a slight point that peaks out from under her dark brown, golden tinged curls. When she moves just so she can see them twitch and flick when she catches a new sound. Her movements seem odd, animalistic, unnatural. Just like everything else about her.

_But without doubt the absolute worst are her eyes._

_There’s no mistaking those damn eyes._

_She_ **_hates_ ** _those eyes._

Those bright, golden feline eyes stare back at her, near mockingly. They Glimmer softly, shimmering and flickering, glowing like embers in the dim light of her cell. She is a monster.

_God_ **_..._ **

****

**_Why couldn’t she have just died?_ **

_She should hav-_

**_W-wait..._ **

****

She **_should_** have. By all rights she should have died...but she didn’t.

Why didn’t she die?

Why?

J-just forget the monster transformation for a minute. How the hell did she survive something that is totally and completely **_UN-_** survivable? How is that even possible?

_I-it...it isn’t._

It’s not possible. It’s just not. People don’t survive were venom. A bite is a death sentence. Always. No exceptions... ** _No one_** survives a Were bite.

What is she some magical ‘chosen’ one? _Pfft...yeah sure._ Yeah no, she doesn’t believe in that kind of childish, fanciful crap.

She’s good no question but that’s not luck, that is freaking skill. She’s not good because she’s **_lucky._** She’s good because she has worked her freaking ass off to make herself good.

If you want something in life you work for it, fight for it, earn it. You don’t set around waiting for someone to just hand it to you, you do everything you can to make it happen.

She’s not still here because of luck...

_So why_ **_is_ ** _she still here?_

And while we’re on the subject where the hell _IS_ here? Last thing she remember she was fighting for her life- and losing- in the middle of the forest and now this. She survived the unsurvivable and then woke up alone, concussed in a metal box somehow transforming into the very monster she had been fighting with not so much as a glimpse of a memory in between.

I mean that...that could kinda fall into the ‘it’s all in her head’ thing...definitely feels delusional...b-but...but it’s not. She knows it’s not. She’s known from the moment she saw her own blood on what are apparently her own damn claws. Whatever is happening is real. It’s insane and terrifying and makes no sense whatsoever- but it **_IS_** real...it **_is_** happening...

But how is it happening?

_Okay...j...Alright put the brakes on the overdramatic pity party for a minute. She was bit by a Were and survived._

_That is not possible._

**_It’s not._ **

****

Everything she has ever read, heard or seen tells her it’s not. It is one of the undisputable facts that is impressed upon Angelus youths from their earliest days. One of the first things they ever learn...constantly hammered into them not just during the entirety of their training but throughout their entire lives.

_A were bite is a death sentence._

_A near_ **_immediate_ ** _death sentence._

_It just_ **_is..._ **

So how is she still here? **_Is_** it just some kind of fluke? Like a one in a million type reaction? Something unique or rare in her that reacted with the venom, counteracted it somehow...Uh...yeah...no...t-that doesn’t really seem a possibility.

Okay yeah...alright she’ll admit she’s pretty damn impressive. She’s strong and determined and one of the most skilled alumni ever to come out of academy. She pulls off amazing, one in a million things just as flawlessly as she does her signature leather jacket. Most of the time telling her something is impossible is just daring her to prove it wrong. She pulls off impossible all the freaking time.

But **_this?_**

This is not that.

This isn’t her pulling off a kickass, daring escape armed with nothing but her natural flare, fashion sense and a smug smirk. She didn’t think, fight, flirt or trick her way out of this. She was flat out down for the count.

She was bitten and lost consciousness, totally defenseless crumpled in the mud while being circled by a majorly pissed off wereleopard out for her blood and some bizarre were-magic dude. Unless she somehow kicked both their asses while freaking comatose she didn’t get herself out of it.

_Don’t get her wrong; if anyone could pull it off it would be her but she’d kinda leaning towards that being pretty unlikely._

Wereleopard, were-magic _(seriously now sure how that’s even a thing),_ bitten and poisoned, alone, unconscious, unarmed and defenseless, in the middle of the woods, yards away from a knockdown drag out fight between her batch of new recruits and two other supervisors and no fewer than thirty vicious supernaturals who’d already signaled for reinforcements.

_Uh...Y-yeah...even by Izzy-logic she should’ve been dead about five times over there._

**_At least._ **

****

_No way she got herself out._

_So who did?_

Alright...think it through...In her last memory she was near certainly dead in the woods and the next she’s waking up concussed, freezing in the metal box. There have to be many steps between those. She didn’t just magically transport here. Well...okay...at least SHE didn’t magically transport herself here. There was the were-magic and easily half a dozen other beings with transport abilities back at the fight so it’s a possibility she was transported here directly from the fight. But however that came about it wasn’t by accident.

Someone put her here.

Who...Why?

Logic dictates whoever put her here did so for a reason. She’s gonna go with the reason being linked to the random wereleopard transformation and likely the ensuing fight that seems to have kicked this all off.

_I mean...they’re connected...yeah? They have to be._

It...it practically makes sense. This box is solid steel. ?The scratches on the walls...i-it’s designed for this. Designed for weres. She’s not in a freezer...she’s in a box designed to hold a were. Meaning whoever put her in here **_knew_** she was going to be turning into a were...maybe even is the cause of her becoming a were.

She was bit by a were, survived said were-bite and is now **_becoming_** a were. T-that...that’s not how it works. Not in real life in any case. I mean not outside of like human pop culture.

There Werewolf bite turns you into a werewolf. Most who ‘believe’ in the supernatural believe that...but then again they also think demons feed on souls, trolls live under bridges, pixies are cute, playful little bombshells and vampires don’t have a reflection and sparkle in the sunlight.

There is very little they get right and the little they do is a mix of sheer coincidence and intentional supernatural disinformation/ romanticizing. It’s underhanded and devious and categorically fictitious. A sneaky, underhanded way of lulling humans into complacency. 

In the real world You get bit by a werewolf you don’t ‘turn into a werewolf’- you die. The end. Painfully and excruciatingly. That is an undeniable fact.

So what the hell is going on with her?

And how did whoever put her in here _know_ she was going to turn? Clearly they had this place ready. Obviously they’ve used it before. From the looks of it, a lot. The marks on the walls are different sizes, different widths. Some are deep, look old and overlapped...maybe even years old.

S-so...she’s not the first that’s turned...this isn’t a one in a million occurrence. You don’t have a set up for a one in a million occurrence ‘just in case’. Whatever happened with her has happened before. Enough times that whomever’s behind putting her here is ready for it.

So who is it that put her here?

The supernaturals? It has to be. They were calling for reinforcements- that was what the whole light show thing was about...they were calling for help. Backup arrived...she was down for the count. They took her.

Makes sense...

It’s the only thing that makes sense.

But why? Is it some kind of punishment? An experiment? Some twisted, vile way of getting retaliation against their enemies? An especially sick, cruel vindictive means of torture. Turning Angelus into monsters just like them?

Gotta admit if that’s the idea it’s a hell of an idea...makes the whole death by were venom thing pale in comparison. They really outdid themselves on this one. She knew they were evil but this is a whole other level of cruelty.

Still, what do you expect from literal monsters?

_But why h-_

Oh...wait...if that’s the case than the ‘why her’ question is pretty self-explanatory.

She is one of the best the academy has ever had to offer. Fought countless battles, pulled off missions most would deem impossible. Does it nearly on a regular bases.

Also lets be real: she is a Lightwood.

With the Family legacy just taking one of them out would likely give a supernatural bragging rights for life. Pulling off something like this? Not outright killing a Lightwood but actually turning a Lightwood INTO the very thing they’ve fought so hard against?

Yeah...why her- not a mystery.

So...that’s one answer- it doesn’t really help her but one answer is better than where she was so she’ll just have to take what she can get.

_So she has the ‘why’...likely the who- or an ambiguous idea of who, close as she can get right now..._

_Kay two answers..._

_Now as to the how..._

Uh...yeah...that’s a fair bit trickier. Maybe they have a way to curtail the venom, edit it? It’s possible the ‘werewolf bite turning you’ wasn’t so much a disinformation type campaign as a way to romanticize their little experiments. Make them seem normal...inevitable.

_Well...it is official. Apparently it CAN get worse than poisoned, locked in a freezer, awaiting death._

_Peachy._

On the plus side at least she stopped wallowing in self-pity...that’s a step in the right direction. She knows next to none of the details here; if it’s an experiment, some unknown, rare _(but not nearly as rare as it would seem)_ fluke reaction or one of the most evil punishments ever imagined but whatever the hell this is sitting around crying about it isn’t gonna do a damn thing.

All crying does is just annoys you, zaps your energy and make your eyes puffy. It’s a waste of time, energy and strength...it’s a waste of oxygen- and whatever else is going on she’s still stuck in a metal box, now with around eight hours of oxygen left _._

I mean as point of fact it’s actually only been around two hours since she woke up but between the crying, the panicking and the extra oxygen used by the larger, more powerful lungs weres possess- _which explains the horrible squishing sick feeling_ \- she needs to cut the time by at least a third just to err on the side of caution.

On the plus side she’s running far warmer than normal so she’s not worried about the hypothermia clock anymore...so at least she has one mark in the ‘win’ column (it’s a pretty pitiful column but it’s something). Admittedly compared to the other ways she may die here hypothermia was probably the most pleasant but one less possible death is still one less possible death...it’s something.

**_Not much_ ** _but it IS something. She needs to focus on the positives right now._

She closed her eyes, covering them with her hands. She sighs softly, fingers going to her temples, rubbing slow, meditative circles, taking a few deep, measured breaths, trying to center herself. She feels her muscles uncoil, some of the tension seeping out. She leans back, sinking down, settling on the floor, eyes closed, relaxing more back against the wall.

Okay back to the lists. The lists help...but just for a breather maybe focus on the positives first.

_You’re not likely to die from hypothermia._

_The bite was not fatal. It should have been but it wasn’t...even if that’s the result of some sick experiment that IS a win._

She gives a faint sigh, feeling her shoulders relax a little more, a slight rippley shiver slipping through her. Letting her mind flow freely she continues her list.

_In the two plus hours you’ve been in here no one has made a move to kill you...that’s likely a good thing._

_Your body may have changed but your mind, emotions and thought processes still seem intact._

_You are alive. That is a pretty big check in the win column. Whatever else is going on you can’t fix anything if you’re dead...well unless you were a vampi-_

Oh...wow...yeah no...one insane monster thing at a time.

_Okay_ **_again_ ** _..._ _you’re alive...you survived the venom...apart from locking you in a metal box no one’s tried to kill you so far...you’re not dying of hypothermia..._

You still could die from suffocation. T-that’s not a positive but if you’re not gonna keel over from one of the other reasons or get taken for some other round of experiments it’s probably the most likely way you’re gonna die here. There are worse ways to go but that one really isn’t high on her list so definitely have to keep that in mind.

Aaand...that is the extent of the list of positives...

_Well...crap..._

_Okay so onto the rest of the list._

You are in an icy cold metal box. The cold suddenly makes sense. She’s read that were’s run a few degrees hotter than most and if that earlier was indicative of anything it’s even worse when they’re transforming. The cold could even be a type of almost compassionate gesture.

That’s probably a far too optimistic take away but it’s almost something that could eek into the positive column. Maybe...if she’s REALLY desperate. W-which she kinda is.

Okay so whomever put her in here and turned her into a monster at least wanted her to have a base level of comfort during the hellish ordeal.

_Th-umm...that’s something..._

Unless it’s just more practical for whatever the next phase of their plan is. Or they’re somehow trying to ingratiate themselves to her...like trying to trigger some weird Stockholm syndrome type thing. Or they just like the cold.

_O-okay...yeah...not helpful, moving on._

Somehow you’re being transformed into a monster. By someone who has a standard process for this type of situation. Who’s been doing this for likely quite a while. Possibly years. You don’t know where you are, why you’re here, where ‘here’ is, who put you here or-well- basically just about anything else.

_Uh...yeah...by all logic you’re gonna die here..._

**_However_** going by that same logic you really should have died about five other times back at the fight so logic clearly isn’t playing a huge part here.

Kay...slightly less helpful. Maybe let’s just put the ‘you’re gonna die’ logic off to the side for a minute and try to fill in some of the other details.

You woke up here, in this box, with a concussion and what looks like a weeks old scar. Weres have pretty accelerated healing. If you have the spots and the hearing and the sight and those damn claws then it would track that you’d have the healing factor too.

If she remembers right the healing factor in weres is usually around ten times that of an Angelus (and about thirty times that of a human). The wound looks weeks old but if that’s accelerated it’s probably no more than a day or two.

Admittedly losing a full day or two is bad but it’s better than losing weeks. If she’s been here for days then that complicates matters...on the other hand that also means she hasn’t been **_here_** here-in the box here- all that time.

_So where was she between the fight in the woods and here in the box?_

That is something she does not know...but really, really needs to.

She settles back more, breathing slow and methodic. She purposefully relaxes herself more, tuning out everything but the sounds of her own breath. Her own heartbeat.

It’s a meditative technique Luke talked them through when they were learning self-discipline and introspection. A way to soothe your mind and help you determine the root of an issue you’re having. It always seemed kind of cheesy and new agey to her but she couldn’t deny it’d been quite useful over the years. Especially when working through tough, complicated situations like problems with her parents, missteps in the field, why she was so dismissive of the boys hitting on her or why things seemed so odd, tense and exciting when training with some of the other girls _(Spoiler alert: those last two were kinda connected.)._

It’s even helped her a few times during recovering after a concussion. She usually tried to avoid pushing herself so quickly as it could make it even worse but...well...’worse’ is kind of a relative term at the moment:

Her memories go from a should be fatal fight in the woods to waking up in a metal box likely the result of some twisted supernatural experiment.

She doesn’t really see a way to make this ‘worse’.

She settled a bit more against the wall, breath coming slow and even, focusing on her heartbeat, feeling the cadence slow and ease to a relaxed, even rhythm. In her mind she pictures a hallway...a long dark hallway lined with doors. At the end of the hallways she sees glimpses of the fight. They’re faded and muted, little more than shadows...nothing more than a marker to let her know she’s going too far back.

Slowly she begins down the hallway, gaze slipping along the darkened path, senses primed for any glimpse between here and the end. It’s silent...echoingly silent. She continues down the hall, footsteps silent, no sound but her muted footfalls and the sounds of her own breathing and hea-

She pauses, head cocking to the side at the barest hint of a sound...it’s low, muffled...nearly silent...but she catches it. A faint beeping- the rhythm is familiar...it’s a heart monitor. But where is i-

_T-there...it’s coming from that door._

She slowly creeps closer, the sound intensifying. Now mixed in with the monitor she hears other sounds. Clinking of instruments, the whir of ventilators, movement and an inaudible murmuring.

A faint whiff of an all too familiar sent hits her, slowing her steps: disinfectant, soap, alcohol and that odd, indefinable ‘hospital’ smell. A Medical unit.

Okay...admittedly expected but promising.

She presses closer to the door, the sounds clearing becoming more distinct. The beeping seems to be speeding up, it’s no longer the smooth normal cadence. It’s fast, jumpy, erratic. She hears shuffling and the crinkle of the paper like examination sheets and medical scrubs. The muddled murmurs are clearing as well. She can make out two maybe three separate voices...one seems near familiar though she can’t place it...that’s odd...why would she recognize a voice?

An old enemy...o-or someone from the fight?

Maybe...doesn’t really feel like it though. She shifts closer, trying to place it, to glean more. The bulk of it is still indecipherable but she can pick up fractured snippets.

_Damnit...It’s not working...use more...that’s the highest we can...it’s not working!_

_Too slow...too damn slow... too late...temp is off the charts-_

_Just use th-_

_I **can’t** ! It’s too late for that- too fast...-oo far gone. We have to move- don’t have the time she’s gon-_

Izzy startles out of her thoughts by a jarring, clanging sound just outside the door. Someone’s at the door. She’s on her feet instantly, blinking her eyes open.

_Woah wh-_

She blinks again, surprised that her vision doesn’t seem nearly as intense as it had been...it’s still brighter than it was when she first came to but not the glaringly bright it was. Her head tilts curiously, looking down, eyes landing on her hands. She again startles. The changes t-they’re receding.

The claws look shorter, more like normal nails, she can still feel them but it’s not like it was. The spots on her arms are lighter, less distinct, her arms look more normal.. A-and her clothes don’t feel as constrictive as they had gotten to. It’s not back to normal but it’s better.

_H-how is i...the meditation? That m-_

Her thoughts are again cut off by movement from outside. There’s a sliding sound from the door and suddenly the window cover is ripped away, a brilliant beam of light shooting in hitting her directly in the eyes. She gives a pained, startled growling hiss, hands going up on instinct, covering her still overly sensitive eyes.

_Damn that hurts! Ooh...it’s like the concussion is coming back tenfold. That is j-_

She freezes, a sound cutting through the cacophony of clamor that’s become little more than white noise to her. Something coming through clear and distinct...and very close.

A laugh.

_It sounds almost familiar but she c-_

“Well, well this is unexpected.”

Every ounce of calm she achieved during her meditative exercise evaporates at that voice. She feels her muscles tense and coil, the fire licking back up inside her veins. The changes stop receding just as fast as they’d begun. She feels the claws lengthen, fist clenching. The prickle washes back over her skin- it’s not as intense as it was last time, it almost just feels like a shiver.

She knows the changes are back...right now that’s not really her chief concern.

Darcy Reinier.

The worst recruit she has ever had the misfortune of working with. The girl was conniving, arrogant, deceitful, a total sensationalist and casually cruel. How a Reinier- much less Commandant Asa Reinier’s only daughter could- be such a snake she had no idea. The Reinier’s family name is as respected and exalted as the Lightwood’s...possibly even more so.

Most children of legacies put every effort into upholding there family name, living up to it, even improving it. Not Darcy. The girl just assumed having the ‘Reinier’ surname gave her a free pass; that she would be fast tracked and that the rules simply didn’t apply to her...a theory she tested every chance she got.

She spent a year and a half in academy trying the patience of every other recruit, mentor, and instructor in her orbit. After one-or more like five- too many marks against her she was finally drummed out of the academy. Truthfully after everything she pulled she should have been banished entirely but being from a prominent family, and as her father WAS the chief medical officer for ADONIS- not to mention a setting member of the Council- she was merely shuffled off to some clerical type position there in hopes she wouldn’t cause any more damage to the family reputation and her father could keep an eye on her. Hopefully steer her in the right direction.

_No one had high hopes of it working but if anything it got her out of their hair._

When she left they literally threw a party- Alec even attended...hell Alec helped **_plan_** it. Understandable; girl was always trying to make a move on him. To a pushy, outright creepy degree. Izzy’d even heard one of the girls try to get her to back off by telling her Alec was gay-she doesn’t think Nariko even believed that, just figured it was an easy out for Alec. It didn’t work. Darcy just laughed, saying that’s fine, she always liked a challenge.

**_Ugh..._ **

But Alec was Alec- way too moral and respectful to just flat out tell the girl she’s trash and makes his skin crawl. Izzy **_wasn’t_** ** _;_** she told her many times...loudly...and emphatically. The only black mark she ever got was because of this...well this and her telling the snake if she didn’t back the hell off and stop talking to her brother like that she’d fix it so she couldn’t talk at all. That did not go over well- particularly since at the time Izzy was technically supposed to be working as a mentor for the first year.

Yeah...didn’t fly...though as everyone was already all too acquainted with Darcy Izzy really only ended up getting little more than a slap on the wrist. Even Asa himself had taken her aside and apologized, assuring her the mark wouldn’t really affect her prospects or standing going forward.

Even the girl’s own freaking father sided with Izzy there- tells you all you need to know about the woman...well almost all.

_Man poor Asa._

_Having a daughter who’s a disappointment and an embarrassment is one thing...but an outright traitor? Actively working against her own people?_

_Damn...This would crush him._

Izzy took a deep breath, a low, reverberating growl slipping out. She stood up to her full height, lowering her arm, raising her eyes, totally forgoing the sting of the light. She meets those cold, pale blue eyes head on, taking in the smug, arrogant little smirk and the faintly amused expression.

Another growl slips out, this one deeper, louder, her fists clench, claws extended yet again.

Darcy chuckles, brow quirking.

“Hey Golden Girl, long time no see.” she tilted her head, raising her hand pointing, smirk tugging up a bit more at the corner.

“That’s a bit of a different look...new haircut?”

Izzy was across the box in a blink, face right against the glass, slamming her fists against the metal door so hard it left a dent. Darcy cackled, smirk turning into a full on grin, clucking her tongue.

“Temper, temper...and here I thought you were catty _before.”_

Izzy growled, baring her teeth. Her claws extend, pressing her palms against the door, head shifting.

“You repulsive, miserable traitor-”

Darcy quirked her brow.

“Traitor?”

“What did you do to me you conniving little b-”

Darcy gave a scoffing laugh, holding her hands up.

“Hey don’t put this on me. I’m not the one who screwed up; that’s all you Golden Girl. This isn’t my accident. I’m not involved, just a looky loo taking in the show...and yeah, enjoying it immensely.” She laughed again, shaking her head.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen. After all your holier than thou, best of the best, can do no wrong Golden Girl crap, look at you now. The Perfect Angelus Poster Girl reduced to some vile, snarling animal...

Gotta admit it does fit. You were always so temperamental and savage. At least now the outside matches the inside.

Izzy growled again, slamming her fists against the door.

**_“What the hell did you do?!”_ **

She sneered.

“You really think I did this to you?”

Izzy took a deep, growling breath, head tilting to the side, a sharp disbelieving scoff slipping out right back.

“Yeah no...I know you didn’t actually **_do_** it. whatever it was took some amount of brains- you couldn’t even make it through Supernatural Physiology 101 without rampant cheating and trying to bribe the freaking instructor. You’re a washout, a cheat, a snake and a complete embarrassment to Angelus everywhere.”

Darcy chuckled, brow quirking.

“If it was another Angelus saying that I might actually be offended. I don’t really put much stock in the opinions of uncivilized monsters though. Might be a good burn if it came from an actual person.”

Izzy gave a low, deep, reverberating growl.

“And whose fault is that?”

Darcy smirked.

“Yours.”

Izzy scoffed.

“Why, because I called you out about creeping on dudes you have no chance in hell with?”

“Ha...cute. No this isn’t about Alec... _hmm_...though now that I think about it poor guy’s probably a nervous wreck right now. Might have to reach out, get in touch, offer a shoulder to cry on...or whatever else he wants from me to help him through.”

Izzy fought off a disgusted sneer.

“Yeah Chancellor Kaylyak gave him everything he’d ever want from you when he kicked your ass out and banned you from ever returning to the grounds.” 

She chuckled, shrugging.

“Again I don’t put much stock in the opinions of an uncivilized beast. I’ll check in, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it...wish me luck.”

“Go to hell.”

Darcy laughed.

“Nah- again that’s all you...you’ll fit right in with the rest of the demons, monsters and abominations.”

Izzy scoffed, head tilting.

“I wouldn’t be going myself- pretty sure there’s a whole special section for wretched bastards who betray their own people.”

Darcy quirked her brow.

“Betray my people? How do you figure I did that?”

_“Are you kidding me?_ This is a new low even for you. I mean I knew you were wretched. You’re a totally worthless, piece of trash and a totally irredeemable excuse for a person but even with everything else I genuinely thought you were at least better than _this._

You’re working against your own people! Working for some Shifty, shady supernatural something or other-some research lab or counter agency.

_You’re turning your own people into experiments!_

For god’s sake you have an Angelus locked in a metal box, taunting them. It’s sick, disgusting.”

She smirked, head tilting, cold blue eyes slipping over Izzy.

“Really, I do? That’s odd...I don’t see an Angelus. Are they hiding somewhere behind the supernatural mongrel?”

Izzy growled, the sound picking up turning into a near roar. From somewhere deep inside she feels a heat building. Like a fire it grows and spreads, licking through her veins. It’s like before but not. It’s less like a painful fire now, more like the heady, smooth burn of whisky. It’s sharp and deep...not altogether unpleasant.

It kind of tingles, zipping across her skin like electricity. she feels her strength build with the fire, the fury. She lets out another roar, this one so loud she feels the walls of her cell reverberate.

Darcy raises an unimpressed eyebrow, head tilting.

“Not much of a counter argument there...” Darcy chuckles again, leaning closer to the window- so close, just out of reach.

That fussy blonde head tilts, smug little smirk tugging at her thin haughty lips. She lifts her hand, tapping at the glass partition before pausing, head tilting the other way, eyes widening in an exaggeratedly contrite expression.

“Oh right sorry...forgot when you go to the zoo you’re not supposed to tap on the glass. Riles the animals up.”

Izzy roared again, slamming her fists into the door over and over. The metal pushes out buckling some.

_Mmm...she can get through...just a bit more._

She felt her blood boil, vision slipping red, muscles flexing and coiling. Her claws extend, hands opening, digging the sharp, vicious points into the metal, feeling the pull and stretch...it feels good...powerful. They rend through the metal, gouging through solid steel. She feels an exciting little shiver at the sensation...feels unstoppable. They rip through the metal, gouging nearly half an inch into the solid steel...barely holds up to them...

That sniveling, smarmy snake would be nothing but a stain on the floor if she got through.

_It would be so easy...so very easy._

She slams into the door again, feeling the door shake and shiver, claws screeching through the metal.

On the other side of the door Darcy gives a loud, patronizing sigh, a disdainful, mocking expression crossing her sharp, cold features.

“Ugh...I just cannot talk to a hysterical creature.” Darcy clucked her tongue, hand moving from the glass off to the side.

There was an odd, mechanical hissing sound from the speaker in the wall. A bizarre, sickly bile yellow mist starts seeping out, beginning to fill the room.

Izzy snarled, vision brightening, slamming against the door again.

“What the hell are you doing y-”

“Just something to help you relax. On the plus side you made it through the first transformation- fair bit more anger than usual but it is **_you_** so that’s to be expected. That’s the biggest hurdle- fortunately you passed. I know being the perfect little Golden Girl you’re used to being doted and fawned on...surrounded by hangers on. We’ll fix that though. Don’t worry when you wake up you’ll be in with your own kind...”

“What do you m-” Izzy began but trails off, body feeling suddenly heavy.

_W-wha..._

_Oh...man...what the hell is th..._

Izzy tries to scramble back but it’s no use. There’s nowhere to run...nowhere to hide. No escape. None.

The cloud of gas fills the room, seeping down, enveloping her. She tries holding her breath, holds it until she feels her lungs ache, head starting to spin. She gasps, unable to help it, feeling a tightness, a sharp burn. Her limbs get heavy. She feels woozy and lethargic.

Her legs give out, she stumbles, slipping down the back wall of the cell. Her head seems unbearably heavy, lolling to the side, no longer capable of holding it up. Her vision swims, swirls and fades to nothingness.

##  {*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^}

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ##  {*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^*_*^}
> 
> **_Darcy-_ ** _The Dark One_
> 
> **_Reinier-_ ** _Wise Warrior_
> 
> **_Asa_ ** _Healer or doctor._
> 
> **_ADONIS-_ ** _the Councils chief department for defense and research_
> 
> ****
> 
> **_A-_ ** _Angelic_
> 
> **_D-_ ** _Division_
> 
> **O-** Of
> 
>  **N-** Neutralization
> 
>  **I-** In
> 
>  **S-** Supernaturals
> 
> _( Cheesy and a stretch I know but I couldn’t resist lol...)_
> 
> Hi and happy Valentine’s day! Sorry for the wait had a lot of things getting in my way lately...thinking they’ll even out now (hoping they do) Also this story I have to be kind of in just the right mindset and I had a bit of a setback as I’d started writing got over 3k words done and realized it was going in a totally wrong direction and ended up having to scrap it and start over so...yeah...
> 
> In any case I really do like how this one ended up, hope you guys do too!
> 
> So one more down **_(Finally)._** And I know this story hasn't had a whole lot of Malec...we'll get a little Malec interlude next promise...As usual here’s the update list:
> 
> A Start Of Something New (Verse 7)
> 
> The Guy/Demon In The Mirror (Verse 4)
> 
> Nosey Neighbors (Verse 9)
> 
> Love Bug (Verse 2)
> 
> Picture Perfect (Verse 8)
> 
> You Can’t Go Home Again (Verse 1)
> 
> A Study In Chaos (Verse 6)
> 
> This Is Why You Don’t Wander Away From The Group (Verse 5)
> 
> Death Was Just The Beginning (Verse 3)
> 
> Next up is V7 A Stat of Something New...
> 
> Yay! My favorite verse. I’m hoping to get started on it pretty quick (I’m off Monday and Wednesday so I’m hoping I can get new chapters up both those days...it might be a bit ambitious but that’s the goal.)
> 
> _So what do you guys think so far?_

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the kinda abrupt cut off and short chapter after such a long wait but it seemed like a good segue into Izzy’s POV. I know this is a bit vague and it’s just Alec spinning and beating himself up but we needed to get into the story somehow and jumping right into the flashback would seem even more abrupt…think this is a good lead in. Like I said this one’s gonna be a fair bit darker than…well…pretty much anything I’ve had but again it’s ME and I can only go so dark and I always find a way to balance everything out.
> 
> This one might not be as like ‘fun’ as my usual- but we will have a lot of action, a lot of drama, and a lot of strong, kickass female characters being awesome and saving each other (And some cute boys thrown in to lighten the mood and provide ‘eye candy’ lol)
> 
> Kidding…well…kinda.
> 
> The girls are gonna kinda take the heaver side of this one over but We’ll have plenty of Malec fluffies and Simon adorableness to even things out -hey we can’t let Alec beat himself up too much without Magnus and Simon trying to help…hell even Raphael may take pity on him.
> 
> Think it’ll work out well.
> 
> So what do you guys think so far?


End file.
